


The Babysitter

by Cherienymphe



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, College Student Peter Parker, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28869879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/pseuds/Cherienymphe
Summary: You are Peter’s first and only love, and all he ever wanted was to show you how much better it could be.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader
Kudos: 47





	The Babysitter

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: NON-CON, Dark!College!Peter, mentions of abuse/abusive relationships, slight age gap

Peter Parker was a sweet kid, always had been. Maybe referring to him as a kid was a bit dramatic of you considering you were _only_ four years older than him. But you had met the sweet brown eyed boy when he was in fact a kid. Eleven to be exact.

You recalled the way his eyes had widened up at you when he opened the door, a flush climbing over his cheeks as he nervously stammered. There was a bit of a sparkle in his eyes, a dazed look that made you chuckle. However, that dazed look was gone the minute his aunt informed him that you were there to watch him.

“A _babysitter_?” he had scoffed, face even redder.

You remembered how he had pouted and complained as you sat your backpack down, but his aunt wouldn’t budge. It had taken him more than an hour to finally leave his room again, reluctantly joining you in the living room.

“Pizza?” you offered him.

He eyed it for a bit before accepting, a pout still on his face. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The both of you just sat on the floor, watching tv and eating pizza as you waited for Ms. Parker, or May as she preferred, to come back.

“I’m too old for a babysitter,” he’d said after some time.

A slow smile crept over your lips, and you nodded in agreement.

“I think so too, but your aunt is just worried about you, is all.”

“I’m not a baby,” he protested, still refusing to look at you.

“Noo, but…what if something happened while you were here alone? What if you got hurt…and no one was around to call her?”

He was quiet for a minute before pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

“She just wants you to be okay, Peter,” you reasoned with him.

“So that’s why you’re here? To protect me?” he questioned, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You swallowed a chuckle but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, Peter. I’m here to look out for you. Just think of me like a guardian…”

“Like a knight,” he suddenly said, nodding.

“Exactly,” you replied, reaching for a piece of pizza.

The two of you didn’t talk much for the rest of the night, but when his aunt came back home, he looked sad to see you go. Many of the nights after went much like that one had, but eventually, he warmed up to the idea more and more.

He always opened the door for you seconds before you could even knock, like he was waiting for you. That flush hardly ever left his face, and you soon became used to the sight of his red visage whenever you were near. The nights you watched him became less quiet and more rowdy.

You’d spend hours arguing over cartoons and other meaningless stuff. It only got worse when he got his first video game, and the competitive side in both of you reared its ugly head. Eventually, you became less of a babysitter and something more like a friend.

He started to talk to you about school and how left out he felt sometimes. You didn’t like nights like those, because they always made you sad. Peter was a sweet kid. He was smart and funny, and you told him that, encouraging him to make friends with people who liked the same things he liked. You knew he was a bit nerdy, but so were you, and you’d been where he was once upon a time.

Time seemed to fly by, and it wasn’t long before your senior year of high school had come. Despite how hectic it was to prepare for graduation and everything, it never interfered with the nights you watched Peter. You supposed that it came at a good time, because he was going to be 14 soon, and May had already mentioned she felt he was long ready to be at home alone. Truth be told, you were surprised you’d held your job for as long as you had, but part of you knew why that was.

It was no secret that Peter had a crush on you. He always looked at you like you hung the moon and was constantly craving your approval on just about everything. He’d done a good job of keeping the heat off of his face whenever you were around, but sometimes it would slip through anyway. You would never embarrass him about it though. It was cute. After all, you could remember some of your own childhood crushes, and maybe one day Peter would look back on it laugh at the crush he’d had on his babysitter.

You’d never considered that it could be anything more. He was just a kid, after all.

“You’ll…you’ll still come see me, right?”

The both of you were sitting on the couch, a large pizza between the two of you. You’d ordered it, feeling nostalgic for the first night you’d come over. Tonight was your last night. You’d be graduating in 3 weeks and off to the local college about a month after that.

You looked at him, feeling your heart clench at the way he wouldn’t meet your eye, just like that first night 3 years ago. You ruffled his hair, and he grumbled, pushing your hand away.

“Of course, I will. I’m only going up the street, Peter,” you said, stuffing your face.

He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes focused on the tv.

“Yeah, but… You’ll make new friends. College friends…and…you’ll meet college guys and stuff,” he mumbled.

You eyed him.

“That may be, but if I’m being honest here, you’re practically my only friend,” you confessed.

He whipped his head around to face you, eyes wide.

“Really?”

You chuckled with a nod.

“Yup! They always told me I wouldn’t leave high school with the same friends I went into it with. I never thought they’d actually be right,” you sulked.

“…but you still have me.”

You grinned at him.

“Yeah, I still have you. Believe me, I am going to still come around because someone has to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

Peter rolled his eyes, tossing his crust back into the box.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “I don’t care what the reason is, as long as you don’t forget about me.”

“How could anyone forget Peter Parker? Don’t be silly,” you laughed.

He didn’t join you, and you looked at him curiously as he suddenly turned his body around to fully face you. You found yourself smiling at how much he’d grown in the past few years. He was going to start high school soon, and that made you feel so old despite the fact that you were only _just_ leaving it.

He eyed you for a few moments, that same spark in his eyes that was there that first night he’d opened the door for you. He clenched his jaw, looking incredibly nervous before he took a deep breath.

“Y/N… Will…will you wait for me?”

You frowned in confusion, leaning your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your hand.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, looking down for a bit before meeting your gaze. His eyes were so serious, much too serious for a 14-year-old kid. Your frown deepened.

“I think that you are so pretty…”

Your heart sank, and you straightened, understanding dawning on you.

“Peter…”

“Not pretty! No, that’s…that’s too lame to describe you. Y/N, I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re so smart and funny and nice. You’re nice to everyone, even our downstairs neighbor who has never once said anything nice to you.”

You sighed, turning to face the tv.

“I know you think I’m just a kid-.”

“Peter, you _are_ a kid.”

“Your 18th birthday was literally just last week,” he deadpanned.

“Shut up!”

“Y/N, please. Please! Just…promise me that you’ll wait for me,” he begged.

You looked at him, a frown on your face as you noticed the tears in his eyes.

“I know I’m just a kid, but eventually I won’t be. One day, I’ll be 18, then 19, 20, 21! One day I can give you everything you want, and I can make you happy and hold your hand-.”

“Peter,” you snapped.

“Y/N… Y/N, please. I love you…,” your stomach churned. “…so much. I know you don’t think anything of it, but I do. I love you, and… Promise me you’ll wait for me, and I’ll show you how much.”

You stared at him, unable to break from his pleading gaze. You had hoped this day would never come. You had hoped that his unspoken crush would remain just that. You’d never wanted to have this conversation, because you didn’t want to break his heart. And despite how much you should have in that moment, you didn’t. You weren’t going to hurt him.

You were sure that his feelings were fleeting, and that in 5 years’ time or so, he’d forget all about this. He’d look back on this moment with embarrassment, and you’d both be able to laugh about it. High school was four years, and a lot happens in those four years. You were positive that he’d move on, and that was the only reason you said;

“Okay.

.

.

.

“Y/N! Y/N wait!”

You ignored him, picking up your pace as you wiped the tears from your face. You winced as your hand brushed over your cheek, fingers trembling as you reached into your pocket for your keys.

“Y/N, stop!”

He grabbed your arm, harshly, and yanked you to a halt. You cried out, stumbling away from him as you ripped your arm out of his grip. You faced him, eyes hard with anger.

“For what? What could we possibly have to talk about, Chris?” you sarcastically questioned, throwing your hands up.

He glanced around as a few people stumbled out of the house, loud music briefly reaching your ears before it was muffled again. You crossed your arms over your chest as they walked past the two of you, glaring at the dark-haired man before you.

He suddenly sighed, looking a bit conflicted as he bit his lip. He hesitantly reached out towards you, taking a step forward.

“Y/N…it was an accident. I would never-.”

“It wasn’t an accident, and we both know it. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore, Chris. I just can’t,” you replied with a shrug.

He clenched his jaw, eyes darkening a bit as he took in your words.

“What the hell does that mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

“I didn’t think it needed to be said considering not five minutes ago you were slapping me like you were getting paid for it,” you snapped.

He glanced down, eyebrows furrowed.

“I said I was sorry.”

“…and I don’t care. You have a problem with my family, my friends, my clothes, my hair! You’re never satisfied unless I’m doing exactly what you want me to do, and now, I can’t even leave your side for 5 minutes to get a drink without you thinking I ran off to go fuck some random guy?”

He swallowed, and you shook your head at him.

“I’m sorry, okay? I get…I just get insecure sometimes,” was his weak defense.

You scoffed, a tear skipping down your cheek as you eyed him.

“You get insecure? So you _hit_ me? Is that what you’re going to do every time you feel a little insecure?”

“No! I told you, it was an-!”

“I don’t care what it was, Chris. This is it. This is the last straw. I’ve put up with this for too long, and I will not be with a man that slaps me around just because his _feelings_ are hurt. Get a therapist,” you sneered, turning away from him.

You yelped when he grabbed you again, yanking you to him. You reached out to hit him with your free hand, but he gripped your wrist, holding you to him.

“Y/N, please, lets just talk about this,” he begged.

“Let go of me,” you demanded.

He ignored you, instead shaking you a bit as he pleaded his case.

“Y/N, listen to me!”

“Stop-!”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when a fist came out of nowhere, getting Chris clean in the jaw. He was hit hard enough to collapse, and he gripped his face with a loud groan. You stumbled back, but a hand on the small of your back stopped you.

Grateful, you looked up, ready to thank your savior when you paused. Your gaze connected with that of familiar brown eyes, equally brown hair pushed away from a familiar face. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes widened, shock hitting you square in the chest.

“Peter,” you breathed.

He glanced at your ex-boyfriend who was clutching his face before gently grabbing your hand and leading you away.

“Peter, wh-what are you doing here?” you asked as you followed along in a daze.

“Um… Ned wanted to come check out this party he’d heard about,” he replied.

You stopped walking, and he did too, facing you as you eyed him.

“So you and Ned are still friends. I’m happy to hear that. It’s not like I would have had any other way of knowing…”

Your tone was a bit accusatory and Peter at least had the gall to look ashamed.

You hadn’t seen nor heard from Peter in over a year. You still talked to May occasionally, but never a word from Peter. It was so strange. You and him kept in touch somewhat regularly since you had graduated. The two of you weren’t exactly BFFS or anything, especially since you both made new friends as you each started the new phase in your lives, but one day, a year ago, it just stopped.

Your texts asking him how he was went unanswered. You wanted to know if he was excited for college and if he was sad to leave high school, but you never found out. You weren’t even invited to his graduation, something that had struck a nerve. After all, you babysat him for years, and as old as it was going to make you feel, you still wanted to see him graduate. It was a huge accomplishment that you wanted to witness.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said.

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Are you?” you genuinely asked.

He straightened, eyes widening as he blinked at you.

“Yes! I’m…so sorry, Y/N. Things just got crazy and different and I just had a lot to deal with.”

Your brows creased as you could visibly see the stress along his features. He suddenly looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. You started to grow worried.

“Is everything okay? May?”

“No, yeah, aunt May is fine. Everything’s fine, now,” he replied, scratching the back of his head.

You nodded.

“That’s good to hear.”

You had only gone a year without seeing him, but he looked so different. His jaw seemed to be taut with tension, and there was a crease in his forehead that hadn’t left since you’d seen him. He was dressed plainly in a dark grey t-shirt and dark jeans. He had gotten a bit taller, and you blinked in surprise. The last time you saw him, he was already a bit taller than you, but now he was even more so. You suddenly remembered your manners.

“Thank you, by the way,” you said.

He eyed you, suddenly very serious as he crossed his own arms over his chest. The t-shirt he wore stretched over his muscles as he did so.

“Who was that jerk?”

You sighed, glancing away.

“My ex-boyfriend,” you confessed.

His eyes darkened, and he glared over your shoulder.

“What were you guys fighting about?”

You opened your mouth to answer before thinking better of it.

“It was nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing,” he argued, eyeing you.

You heaved another sigh, turning your face away as you refused to tell him the truth. You realized your mistake when you heard his sharp intake of breath. His hands gripped your chin and face before you could do anything, a slight gasp escaping him.

“Your cheek is swelling,” he said, worry and wonder in his voice.

You pulled away from him, briefly closing your eyes.

“Peter…”

“Did he do that?” he asked, disbelief and outrage coloring his tone.

“Peter, he’s my ex now, okay? It’s not going to happen again,” you said, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

You had never seen him look like that in all the time you’d known him. Sure, he got mad sometimes, especially when things didn’t go like he expected them to, but now he looked angry enough to kill. His hands were clenched into fists, face tense with rage. A wild look was in his eyes.

“Peter, I’m okay,” you said, stepping towards him.

“I should have punched him again,” he spat.

“I’m not going to argue with that, but please don’t. I’ve had enough violence for one night, and I just want to go home-.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You paused, blinking up at him.

“What? Peter, no. You came with friends. Go have fun with them, don’t worry about me,” you replied.

He shook his head, grabbing your keys out of your hand.

“No, I’m going with you. You need to put something on your face,” he disputed.

You opened your mouth to argue but decided to pick your battles. With a nod, you led him towards your car. You didn’t have a chance to say anything before he was sliding behind the wheel. To be honest, you were emotionally exhausted for the night and was quite relieved to relax in the passenger seat. You didn’t even know Peter knew how to drive, now, and your heart clenched as you felt like you had missed so much despite only missing a year.

You laid your head against the rest as Peter pulled away from the noisy house, listening to your directions instead.

.

.

.

“You…kind of have the worst taste in men,” he sheepishly said.

You gasped, mouth falling open in shock and mock outrage as he held a freezing bag of peas to your face.

“Are you seriously blaming me, right now?”

He spluttered, a flush taking over his face as he rushed to correct himself.

“No, no! Of course not. I’m just saying… You know how you are,” he added.

You frowned at him, narrowing your eyes a bit.

“No, how am I?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Remember that asshole you dated your freshman year of college? Or that jerk way back in your junior year of high school?”

You did actually. You’d ended up crying all night on May’s couch when you should have been watching Peter because Dylan had dumped you for some more popular girl. Peter, in all his chivalry, had let you have the rest of the pizza while he listened to you cry your heart out. You didn’t even want to talk about Nate.

You’d brought him over to May’s one day when you went to visit her and Peter after being in school for a few months. Peter hated him from the first moment they’d met. You remembered how angry you were that Peter was acting like such a kid and embarrassing you in front of Nate. You’d even said some pretty harsh words to him, something you apologized for when Nate inevitably showed his true colors.

“How could I forget,” you quietly mused.

Maybe Peter had a point. Looking back, the guys you’d dated had shown red flags from the start, all of which you had ignored. Even tonight shouldn’t have come as a shock to you. Chris was always so jealous and irrationally angry over the smallest of things. You should have left the minute he started telling you to stop visiting your family so much.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Peter apologized. “None of this is your fault.”

“No, I’m glad you said it, Peter. You’re not entirely wrong,” you sighed. “I see the signs and I just…ignore them.”

Peter didn’t respond, instead running his eyes over you as he shifted the frozen vegetables. He swallowed, suddenly stepping back.

“What did you see in any of them?” he quietly asked, almost desperately.

“To be honest… I don’t know,” you responded with a shrug.

Peter sighed before setting the cold bag on the counter behind you, resting his hand there.

“Is it…because they’re older? Or even just your age?”

You frowned in confusion, tilting your head at him.

“I’m sure that’s not it. What makes you think that?”

He stepped away from you, shoulders tense as he turned around and stared into your living room.

“I stopped talking to you a year ago because…because I was trying to move on. I was tying to forget you,” he quietly admitted.

Your frown deepened, a dreaded feeling take hold in your stomach.

“What?”

He turned around, dark eyes troubled.

“I was trying to forget you. You were enjoying college and new friends and new boyfriends, and I got tired of trying to show you that I was becoming someone you could be with. I thought that maybe you deserved better and someone who could relate to you more, but then…”

He released a shaky breath, face hardening as he stared past you.

“Then I saw you tonight…with _him_. He was hurting you, and you were screaming, and I wanted to hurt him like he was hurting you.”

“Peter…”

Just like that last night, a realization was coming to you, and you didn’t like it. His eyes softened as he looked at you.

“Do you remember…”

“Peter, don’t.”

“…when you said you’d wait for me?”

You scoffed in disbelief, pushing away from the counter to walk around it, leaning against your stove as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Peter, that was _years_ ago! I… I just didn’t want to hurt you,” you confessed.

His face fell a bit, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You had never wanted to hurt him. Everything that you had done was to prevent that. You thought he would have forgotten.

“You only said that to spare my feelings?”

“I thought you’d move on!”

“I tried!”

You pressed your back into the metal behind you, eyeing him as his eyes glistened. Desperation took over his features, and his lips trembled.

“I tried so hard, but… I love you.”

“Peter, no-.”

“I have been in love with you for _years_. I thought I could forget, but I can’t. I wanted you to live your life, but tonight just proved to me that I should have never tried to let you go. I should have been by your side as soon as I graduated. Tonight never would have happened if I had been,” he ranted.

“Peter-.”

“I can protect you, now. I mean…I could have protected you for years, but now I have the freedom to actually do that.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do that,” you argued. “That isn’t your job.”

He licked his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Do you remember that first night you came over…and you said that you were just there to look out for me? To protect me, like a guardian?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Well, now it can be my turn.”

“Peter, no! Okay?”

You felt like a broken record. He walked towards you, face determined.

“You don’t know the things I can do, Y/N. I can look out for you better than any of those other guys out there! I know you think I’m being silly and that I’m just oh so young-!”

“You are!”

“I’m 20, Y/N! _20!_ That’s _4_ years younger than you! You have friends that are 20,” he desperately argued, eyes wide.

“That’s different!”

“How?”

“…b-because,” you lamely replied.

“I’m not good enough to be with you?”

“Peter…you’re just… You’re so young. No, four years isn’t a big deal, but I babysat you. I watched you grow up with me, and we’re at such different stages in our lives. We want different things-.”

“I want _you_ ,” Peter tearfully interrupted.

You swallowed.

“…and I want you to want someone else,” you quietly said.

“That’ll never happen,” he whispered.

“Peter, please,” you tried to reason with him.

He took another step towards you.

“I can make you so happy. Y/N, I can give you so much, you have no idea. You don’t know who I am, now or what I can do or what I can give you. Just give me a chance,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Peter, please leave.”

He paused, face crushed as you held his gaze. You wanted to look away, but you had to stand your ground if you ever wanted to get through to him. He suddenly exhaled, a newfound determination seeping into his features.

You gasped into his mouth as he pressed his lips against yours, hands holding you close as he pinned you in between him and the counter. You pushed against his hard chest, but he didn’t budge, and you whimpered against his lips. One of his hands found your hair while the other found your waist.

“Peter, Peter, stop,” you gasped.

He didn’t listen, both hands pressed onto the counter, now, keeping you trapped. You squirmed against him, and he groaned into your mouth. With reluctance, you bit his lip, and he pulled away with a pained gasp.

His wild eyes met your terrified ones, and his face softened. He reached up to brush his fingers over his bleeding lip, and you swallowed.

“Go. Please, just go, Peter,” you quietly forced out.

He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it before listening to you. You let the tears fall as the door slammed shut behind him.

**.**

**.**

**.**

“No, um… I haven’t seen him since then,” you worriedly replied.

“Okay. If you hear from him, you’ll call me?”

“Of course, May. I’ll definitely call.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh, worry coursing through your veins. It had been weeks since that night you’d ran into Peter, and apparently, he hadn’t been in contact with anyone since. Guilt consumed you as you felt like this had something to do with you.

You called the number that you hadn’t dialed in over a year with no answer. You texted him, telling him that he should at least check in with his aunt. If anything happened to him, you didn’t know what you’d do.

You should have never given him hope that you two could be anything more. You should have broken his heart that night 6 years ago. It was silly of you to think that you could ever avoid doing such a thing. It was inevitable.

You rose from your bed, heading towards your bathroom to go shower when you heard a noise from your window. You’d only just turned around when something was over your mouth. You reached up in shock and touched what felt like…webbing? Your hands were bound together soon enough, and your legs followed. With a muffle scream, you fell over only to land in strong arms.

Your wide eyes focused on Peter as he held you, and you were powerless to stop him as he raised his hand, pressing a white cloth over your nose. You didn’t even remember closing your eyes.

.

.

.

“Have you lost your mind?” a somewhat familiar voice screamed.

You didn’t know how you knew that voice.

“Mr. Stark, please! Don’t-don’t freak out, okay?”

Stark. Tony Stark. That was how you knew that voice. You’d heard it on tv during press conferences and such plenty of times.

“Am I hearing this right? You _kidnapped_ a woman, and now you want to keep her here?”

“You don’t understand, Mr. Stark…”

Peter’s voice lowered, and you suddenly realized you were lying on a bed. Your hands and legs were still bound with…whatever, and your head was pounding. You didn’t recognize the dimly lit room, and you struggled to sit up. Their voices were still lowered, and you started to wonder where you were.

You tried to sort everything out in your mind, struggling to come to grips with the fact that Peter had kidnapped you. And that wherever you were, it was far if Tony Stark was in the building too. That brought you to a question as to how Peter even knew Tony Stark.

You didn’t have time to ponder that much before the door opened and Peter filled the entryway. Your eyes widened, and you shuffled back on the bed as he closed the door and approached you. His steps were slow and cautious as if _you_ were the one mostly likely to attack. His expression suddenly softened, eyes apologetic, and you realized that you were crying.

His hands were outstretched in a surrendering way before he slowly used one hand to get whatever it was off of your mouth. A sob escaped you, and he gently shushed you, framing your face with his hands.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, slowly sitting down in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry. Peter, I’m sorry. Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone,” you tearfully pleaded.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, shaking his head. “I would never hurt you.”

“You…you attacked me,” you replied, voice filled with confusion and fear.

He looked down.

“No! No, not…not really. I just need time. _We_ need time for you to understand,” he argued.

You shook your head in confusion.

“It’s my turn to look out for you, now, and I can. I’ll tell you everything eventually, when you’re ready, but right now…”

He settled his hands on your shoulders, massaging them.

“Right now, I want to show you how much I love you. I want to prove to you that I can be everything you want, and I can give you everything you want,” he continued.

“Peter, I don’t want you! You’re my friend,” you sobbed.

He pursed his lips, a frown overtaking his features. He suddenly exhaled, shaking his head.

“I can be more than that. Let me show you…”

You cried harder when he started pushing you back. Your chest heaved, and you were practically inconsolable as he climbed over you. He freed your legs, but they were of no use to you as he easily pinned them down while he undressed you. He ignored your pleas, tearing your shirt and bra straight down the middle before tearing them off of your arms.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his own taking you in, heat and humiliation flooding through you. He was quiet for a long time as he ran his fingers over your bare skin, and you shuddered when you felt him press a kiss to your chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin.

You kept your eyes closed as he ghosted kisses over you, taking his time to kiss every inch of you that he could. His touch was light and soft, so different from anything else you’d ever felt. He touched you like you were made of glass, like he was afraid you’d shatter with one wrong move.

You resisted when he parted your legs, but one hard squeeze on your ankle had you freezing. Your eyes flew open of their own accord when his lips latched onto you, tongue delving inside of your core as he coaxed an involuntary whimper from you. None of your boyfriends had ever returned the favor when you went down on them, and you had convinced yourself that it wasn’t a big deal.

You’d never felt someone else’s lips on you so intimately before, and you couldn’t stop your intense reaction. Fire bloomed in your stomach, and you couldn’t contain the moans that left you as you experienced the new sensation. You felt like you were floating, and you had to remind yourself that you didn’t want this, that your hands were currently bound together to keep you from fighting this like you wanted.

Peter pulled away before you fell over the edge, and you pleaded with him again as he climbed over you, now undressed. His eyes were swimming with determination as he brushed his hand over your cheek, eyeing the place where Chris had hit you weeks ago. He pressed his lips there, breath shaky.

“I’ve dreamed about this day for so long,” he whispered.

“Peter…if you love me…you won’t do this,” you breathed.

He reached between the two of you, trailing his lips over your face before finally pressing them to your lips. He kissed you fiercely, putting so much emotion into it that you found yourself cringing away from the intensity.

“I’m doing this because I love you, and because I want you to know that you deserve the best,” he murmured into your mouth.

One hand was beside your head, pressing into the bed.

“…and that’s me.”

You gasped when he entered you, fingers grazing his stomach as he set a slow pace. You blinked, mouth parted as tears sprang to your eyes. His hips were moving so slowly and so intensely against your own. You could feel every curve and ridge of him, and it awoke pleasure in you that you didn’t know existed. You turned your face away in an attempt to ignore what you were feeling, but it was no use.

Soft grunts escaped his lips, and he used one hand to gently grip your face, turning you to look at him. His brown eyes never left yours, dark hair brushing along his forehead as his skin started to glisten with sweat. His arm flexed, hand clenching the sheets beside your head as he bit his lip, never taking his eyes off of you.

You couldn’t keep the pleasure off of your face. You’d never felt this before. He was so soft with you, gentle in a way you’d never experienced. His touches were feather light, and he watched you like he was looking for the first sign of pain, of discomfort. It made you feel…good…loved, and you didn’t like it.

With a grunt, you struggled against your bonds. More tears escaped, and he wiped them away.

“Hey, hey…”

You shook your head.

“Peter…stop...please,” you gasped, stomach tightening.

“You don’t want me to,” he quietly refuted.

“Yes-.”

“I can feel that you don’t. You’ve been clenching around me, like you don’t want me to go,” he murmured.

More tears escaped, and your breath hitched when he slowed down even more.

“No, no, I don’t like this,” you argued.

But deep down, you did.

“You do! You know you do-.”

“No!”

“Let yourself be loved, Y/N. You’ve never been held right…treated right…touched right. But I’m here, now,” he groaned, brushing his lips over your neck.

Your nails dug into his stomach as you clenched around him, a coil building low in your own. You arched against him, and he bent down to wrap his lips around one exposed bud, teeth grazing your skin. He rested himself fully against you as one hand gripped your hair while the other dug into your hip.

“All I ever wanted was to show you that I can be the man you want,” he panted.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, now, teeth nipping at your skin every once in a while. You felt a dampness there, and when he sat up, you noticed that a few tears had escaped his eyes.

“I love you so much,” he breathed.

“Peter,” you protested as you felt that coil tightening some more.

One hand slid to the small of your back, and he held you against him. He pressed his lips against yours before murmuring:

“Come with me.”

And you did.

You gasped into his mouth as you spasmed around him, legs trembling and shaking like they never had before. His hands and mouth never left you, and you didn’t even realize when your hands were suddenly free, nor when they held onto him. Your bodies were slick with sweat, and as he talked you through it, you didn’t know if your tears were from fear or the overwhelming onslaught of emotion that came with this newfound feeling.

This feeling of being loved.


End file.
